


Revenant

by Sherlocked_Gallifreyan



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers, but then it wasn't, fix-it fic gone wrong, spoilers for defenders tv, this was supposed to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 04:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocked_Gallifreyan/pseuds/Sherlocked_Gallifreyan
Summary: After Matt’s funeral, Foggy takes a vacation. He borrows a sympathetic coworker’s car, throws spare clothes and toothbrush into a bag, and just drives. He doesn’t know where he’s going or if he really even plans on returning to Hell’s Kitchen. It hadn’t felt like home for far too long.





	Revenant

**Author's Note:**

> revenant (n): a person who has returned, especially supposedly from the dead

After Matt’s funeral, Foggy takes a vacation. He borrows a sympathetic coworker’s car, throws spare clothes and toothbrush into a bag, and just drives. He doesn’t know where he’s going or if he really even plans on returning to Hell’s Kitchen. It hadn’t felt like home for far too long.

He drives and drives until he leaves the city behind and there’s absolutely nothing around. It’s so quiet out here. Foggy’s been in Hell’s Kitchen for so long that he forgot what quiet feels like. He pulls to the side of the road and cuts the engine. Now it’s entirely silent. He stays like that until a knock at the window startles him. He starts the car again and cracks the window. An older woman with a heavy accent asks if he’s okay, and he tell her part of the truth: he’s from Hell’s Kitchen and is just enjoying the quiet. She smiles and returns to her car. Foggy swears he’s seen her before. He watches her drive off and wonders how long he’d been sitting there. Wonders how many cars had passed, drivers voicing concern but all agreeing that someone else would help. Even though the road’s empty, Foggy signals before pulling back onto the road.

He comes to the gas station/motel as the needle hovers closer to empty. All those bad horror movies had been wrong, Foggy muses absently as he pulls the car next to a pump. There are no ominous warnings to turn back or crazed locals or really much of anything at all.

The man tending the flowers in the repurposed barrel by the motel door looks painfully like Matt. This is the first time Foggy’s seen anyone who looks like Matt. Foggy had heard people talk about seeing loved ones after they died. For an absurd moment, he thinks that maybe he hasn’t seen Matt since Matt wasn’t actually dead. Shaking his head, Foggy pays for the fuel, then reparks outside the convenience store, closer to the motel. 

It’s Matt. His hair is longer than it was even in college and there’s dirt on his hands from gardening, but he’s very much alive. He smiles softly at Foggy but doesn’t approach the car. Instead, he returns to carefully removing dead flowers and wilted leaves.

 

xxxxxxxx

 

Matt hadn’t expected to be given any more second chances, but once he’d recovered enough, he’d been given a choice: he could return to Hell’s Kitchen or he could start over somewhere new. He’d taken the latter. Going back to Hell’s Kitchen was tempting, but he knew he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to the people he cared about. They were moving on. Going back would be unfathomably cruel. And besides, he’d left his city in good hands.

He’d been brought out here with none of his personal belongings. Some things he missed, like his Bible, but he understood why he couldn’t take anything from the apartment. No thief would take sentimental odds and ends from a blind pro-bono lawyer’s apartment, so things had to stay where they were.

Matt adapted quickly to his new surroundings, allowing himself to become comfortable but not complacent. Complacency was dangerous. Out here, he almost felt safe. He lived simply in the motel and took up gardening. More accurately, he’d been volunteered to help with the garden and found an odd peace there. He prayed for his friends but tried not to think about them too much otherwise.

So he’s shocked when a familiar heartbeat pulls into the gas station. He can feel Foggy staring at him as he deadheads the flowers around the motel entrance and knows by the way Foggy’s heart races that he’s been recognized. He follows the heartbeat from gas pump to parking spot 15 feet away. He smiles but decides against going up to Foggy. 

A car door opens and closes, then Matt hears Foggy walk slowly over to him. “How?” Foggy asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” Matt says honestly, picking the last dead snapdragon from the plant and dropping it in the bucket at his feet. “When I woke up…” He stops. He’s not sure what happened after the explosion and can’t give Foggy the explanation the other man wants. “Somehow, someone found me under the rubble and got me out of the city.”

“Where?” Foggy interrupts. Matt’s shoulders slump.

“I didn’t ask,” he says. He’d had more pressing concerns than where he was. “Whoever they are, they’re not the Hand. I don’t know who they are or why they gave me another chance.” God knows how quickly he’s burned through second chances in the past.

“Why didn’t you come back to Hell’s Kitchen?” Not  _ to us,  _ but  _ to Hell’s Kitchen. _ The question isn’t personal.

“You’d already had a funeral for me. If I came back, I’d only be doing more harm.” Of this, Matt is certain. He could probably find another thousand excuses he was less sure of if he needed to. He wonders if he should tell Foggy that he’s scared to go back. He didn’t leave much of a life behind, and he’d figured he’d sufficiently cut his ties before staying behind in the tunnels. Apparently not.

“I can’t tell anyone else, can I?” Foggy asks. He sounds bitter and disappointed but not surprised. “They’d never believe me and you’re not coming back,” he accuses. His heart is too steady.

“I can’t go back, Fog. I want to, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Karen or Father Lantom or anyone else.” He wishes his heart was as steady as Foggy’s and is glad Foggy can’t hear it. His confession of fear burns unspoken on his tongue, and he grits his teeth around it. Maybe there had been a time when he would have freely admitted it to Foggy.

“Looks like you’ve got a pretty nice life here anyway,” Foggy says. “And hey! At least I know where to find you now just in case I forget you’re still alive. Talking to your empty grave just won’t be the same as talking to you.” With that, he turns on his feel and returns to the car. That didn’t go as he had hoped. Somehow, he’d entertained the notion that they’d talk and Matt would come back and life would return to normal.

Of course Matt can’t come back. Maybe once he’s had a chance to process, Foggy will bring a few of the things Matt has that are of any sentimental value. 


End file.
